James McGee - Resurrectionist

Sawney looked up sharply, searching for a glimmer of humour in Dodd’s face, but despite the obvious play on words, none was apparent.

The cross wasn’t very big, no more than three or four inches in length, but the silver hallmark was clearly visible. Sawney picked it up and ran the grubby ball of his thumb over the tiny indentations. Despite its size, it was probably worth four or five retrievals. Not a bad return for a few days’ work. And just because he might agree to work on an exclusive basis didn’t mean it had to be so. There were bound to be opportunities to earn a little extra on the side; stood to reason.

It was then that another thought leapt out at him: the prospect of killing two birds with one stone. He placed the cross back on the table and fixed the doctor with a speculative gaze. “Suppose I was to agree, how many… things… would you be wantin’?”

Dodd shrugged. “I am not certain at this time. Two or three, possibly more. It would depend on the quality.”

Sawney sucked in his cheeks as if he was giving the proposition some serious consideration. Finally, after what he thought might be an appropriate interval, he nodded.

“All right, Doctor. Don’t see why not. As it ’appens, you could be in luck. I’ve got a couple of items in stock at the moment that’ll be right up your alley, er… given your particular requirements, that is. Already wrapped, too.”

A flicker of interest flared in the doctor’s eyes. “Really? And what might that be?”

Sawney told him.

“I see, and how fresh are they?”

“Day and a half,” Sawney said. He wasn’t sure if that statement was entirely accurate, but it was close enough. He knew their ages were about right. One out of two was worth a try.

“You can deliver them tonight?”

“Signed and sealed,” Sawney said. “You just tell me the time an’ place.”

Once more Dodd reached inside his coat. This time his hand emerged clutching a small notepad and a stub of pencil. “Do you know your letters?”

“You askin’ if I can read and write? We ain’t all ’eathens down ’ere, Doctor.”

“I am delighted and relieved to hear it.” Dodd tore a page out of the notebook and began to scribble. “Here is the address. Can you read my hand?”

Sawney peered down at the information. He frowned.

“What is it?” Dodd asked, as he returned the pencil and notebook to his pocket. His expression was still.

Sawney shook his head. “Thought I knew all the schools. Didn’t know there was one there, that’s all.” He folded up the page and tucked it into the pocket of his waistcoat. “Right then.” He reached for the cross.

Sawney never saw the doctor’s left hand move. The next thing he knew it was clamped round his wrist. Dodd’s eyes were as hard as stone. When he spoke, his voice was couched low and as brittle as broken glass.

“Be aware of one thing, Sawney…” The doctor’s gaze moved to the silver cross. “Do not think of disappearing with your down-payment. If you run, I will find you. Be assured of that. I expect you to stand by our agreement. I expect my instructions to be carried out to the letter and with the utmost discretion. There is to be no deviation. Is that clear?”

Sawney tried to pull his arm away, but the strength in the doctor’s grip was astonishing.

“Is that understood?” Dodd repeated.

Sawney winced as the doctor’s grip tightened. “Jesus, I said we’d do it, so we’ll do it. And what do you take us for? You think we’re going to stroll up and down the Strand postin’ bleedin’ bills?”

“Your word, Sawney. Do I have your word?”

Sawney found himself transfixed. There weren’t many things that unnerved him, but the coldness in Dodd’s eyes made his blood run cold. He swallowed and nodded.

“Capital.” Dodd released the hand abruptly, picked up his cane, and got to his feet. Then, looking Sawney straight in the eye, as if nothing untoward had happened, he smiled. “I look forward to our next meeting.”

The doctor turned away. At that moment Sawney sensed something dark skitter across the back of his brain, as if someone had opened a door on to a dim-lit room allowing him to see a glimpse of shadow pass behind a guttering candle flame, that disappeared as quickly as it had arrived and yet which left him with such an intense feeling of dread that the breath caught in his throat.

It was only as Dodd paused and turned that Sawney realized the sound of his exhalation must have carried. A chill moved through him.

The doctor’s head was cocked as he looked back over his hunched shoulder. “What’s wrong, Sawney? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.” In the low light, the doctor’s eyes were still as black as coal, without warmth.

Sawney looked down and saw that the skin along his arms had become a patchwork of goose pimples. Each individual hair was standing to attention like a bristle. He shook his head quickly and nodded towards his plate. “Bit of cheese went down the wrong way, that’s all.”

The doctor held his gaze for what seemed like minutes. “There is one more thing, Sawney. The bodies are to be delivered whole. Leave the teeth.” With the instructions hanging ominously in the air, Dodd turned and continued on his way out.

Sawney waited for the doctor to make his exit before releasing his breath. He got up, pocketed the cross, and walked unsteadily to the counter, taking his mug with him. Hanratty kept a bottle of Spanish brandy beneath the boards. Sawney emptied the dregs from his mug into the slop bucket, lifted the brandy from its hiding place and poured himself a measure. He raised the drink to his lips, took a long, deep pull, and waited for his heart to slow down.

Then he asked himself what had just happened.

He wasn’t sure what his mind had shown him — a flash of memory, perhaps, or an omen of what was to come. He didn’t know. He tried to recall what it was he had seen, but his brain did not respond. Whatever it was, Sawney had the feeling that it was malevolent. If that same door was ever to stand ajar again, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what lay on the other side of it. He took another swig of brandy.

“Rufus?”

Sawney jumped; the second time in a day. The snarl erupted from his lips.

“Jesus! Don’t ever bleedin’ sneak up on me like that again, you stupid bastard!”

Maggett flinched and stared at the brandy. “You all right, Rufus?”

Sawney didn’t answer. Maggett frowned and nodded towards the taproom door. “Who was that then?”

Sawney ignored the question. “Where are the boys?”

Maggett jerked his thumb skywards. “Upstairs with some moll. Surprised you can’t hear ’em. Bleedin’ animals.”

Sawney put down his mug. “Go bring them down. Don’t take any shit. I’ve a job for them. There’ll be a run on tonight, too. I got a customer for their ladyships downstairs.”

Maggett looked pointedly at the mug in Sawney’s hand and the half-empty bottle on the countertop and raised an eyebrow.

“Medicinal purposes,” Sawney snapped.

Maggett turned away. He had no idea what was irking Sawney. He suspected it might have to do with the man who’d just left. He hadn’t seen Sawney looking that shaken for a long while. Trouble was, whenever Sawney got the hump, he had a tendency to take it out on everyone else. Maggett sighed. He hoped the mood was temporary. Otherwise it looked as if it was going to be a long day, not to mention a longer night. He just hoped the job was going to be worth it.

As Maggett turned and made his way to the back stairs, Sawney wiped a hand across his lips. He felt a little better. The brandy had done the business. He straightened. Probably nothing more than his nerves playing tricks. It wasn’t unusual when a retrieval was in the offing to get a touch of the jitters.